


Never Again

by translorastyrell (nerddowell)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Closeted Character, Jealousy, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 04:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerddowell/pseuds/translorastyrell
Summary: 'Did you do it?' he asks, his voice as sharp as his sword, lying sheathed at the foot of the bed.'Do what?' Renly asks, voice slow and warm as honey.A missing/extended scene from 2x03 of the TV show.





	Never Again

The candlelight is warm, buttery gold on Loras' chest where Renly's fingers play idly over the bruised skin. The pride beneath, the tender heart beneath that fragile chest with its purple and black blossoms of bruises, is still wounded, however, and Loras slaps his lover's hand away. Margaery has come and gone, Renly recalling Loras to his pavilion the moment her skirt hem left the threshold, but the jealousy still seethes under his skin.  
  
'Did you do it?' he asks, his voice as sharp as his sword, lying sheathed at the foot of the bed.  
  
'Do what?' Renly asks, voice slow and warm as honey. He tries tracing idle patterns over Loras' chest again, and is again slapped away. He smiles, charming, and Loras has to remind himself to harden his heart.  
  
'Your duty. Did you fuck her?'  
  
'Loras,' Renly says with a distasteful scrunching of his nose. 'She's your sister.'  
  
'She's _your Queen_ , your Grace. So. Did you fuck her?'  
  
Renly leans up on his elbows, his face hard as he stares at Loras. His voice is cutting when he responds.  
'I don't see how it's any of your business, Ser Loras.'  
  
The _ser_ is what cuts Loras to the bone. 'She's my Queen and my sister. I care for her happiness.'  
  
'Then yes, I fucked her. Roundly and well, til she wept for the pleasure of it. I fucked her rolled over on the bed, face in the pillows, the same way I fuck you-'  
  
Loras bolts from the bed, snatching his sword from the floor and levelling it at Renly's throat.  
'You go too far, Renly! She is my sister-'  
  
'And you know damned well that I didn't touch her!' Renly hisses back, eyes glittering. 'You needle and bully, wanting only what brings your family advancement. Oh, yes, an heir on your sister would suit the Tyrells well, would it not? A future king with the blood of the Reach running through him.'  
  
'She is not a prize mare to be ridden and bred!' Loras shouts, his face reddening, eyes blazing furiously.  
  
'Is she not?' Renly asks, his own face cold. 'Your family has all but sold her to me for that purpose. As Tywin Lannister did Cersei, to Robert, fifteen years ago.'  
  
Loras looks for a moment as though he wants nothing more than to swing the sword, to take Renly's handsome head from his broad shoulders for the grave insult to his sister. Loras loves Margaery best in the world, after all; second only to Renly himself, and the king knows it.  
  
Renly stares him down from the bed, throat bared to the glinting steel tip of Loras' sword, before bowing his head. The edge bites into his pale skin, a trickle of blood down the hollow of his throat that pools in the space between his collarbones. He sighs, his blue eyes suddenly a thousand years old, and tired.  
  
'I didn't touch her, Loras, I swear.'  
  
'Why do you taunt me?' Loras asks, laying down his sword. Anger still simmers, low and hot, but sadness is quickly overwhelming it. The king is as small and crumpled on the bed as a child's rag doll, his own skin pale as cream in the light, and tears line his lower lashes, threatening to spill.  
  
'I can't bear it,' Renly pleads. 'She's the most beautiful girl in the Seven Kingdoms, the rose of the Reach and the sister of my most beloved knight. And that is why I can't stand it. She deserves better than a husband who flinches from her when undressed, a husband who looks at her and wishes that her brother stood in her place.' His voice is thick and choked with tears, and Loras' heart gives an answering pang. 'And you - _you_ ,' Renly says, tortured, '- are the one to push her into my bed, to take yourself away from me for her. _You_ are the one to remind me of my duty, to ask in the most base terms whether I have done what I must. I see it as a betrayal as well as a duty, Loras.'  
  
'It is no betrayal, your Grace,' Loras says, but it's a lie and they both know it.  
  
'It hurts you,' Renly says, reaching out to him and coaxing him back onto the bed with pleading eyes. He runs his fingers through Loras' hair, kisses the tears from his cheeks, brushes the pad of his thumb along the strong pulse at his throat. 'Never ask me to do anything to hurt you.'  
  
'You must,' Loras says miserably, casting his eyes down towards the mattress. Renly shakes his head.  
  
'No more,' he says softly, tilting Loras' chin up to brush feather-light kisses across his mouth. 'Never again.'


End file.
